So let’s suppose for a minute you’re a parent. Hey, for a lot of you, this shouldn’t be much of a stretch; you are parents. But let’s suppose for a minute you’re a parent of a boy child. Even this shouldn’t be too hard; half of us were, after all, boy children ourselves at some time in the past and, to be painfully honest, many of us who live in Whistler haven’t really progressed very far beyond that description. The rest of us have probably either given some thought to what it might be like to have a boy child or have at least dated a few, either of which has been scientifically proven to increase the probability of celibacy or lesbianism.
Now suppose your boy child, an earnest young chap with an age-appropriate – let’s say 12 – serious mien, comes to you and says, "Tommy and I are starting a club."
You might, if you’re not too distracted by the flotsam of adult life, respond, "That’s nice, honey. Is it just you and Tommy in the club?"
"No, anyone can join. Well, anyone who’s not a girl."
"So just boys can be in your club?"
"Yup, just boys."
"Why not girls?"
"They’re just not qualified. It’s not their place to be in our club."
"Never?"
"Never."
"Anyone else you won’t let join your club?"
"Queers."
"That’s not a nice word. Gay people prefer to be called gay… unless they’re talking among themselves, in which case they seem to prefer queer but I think you have to be in their club for that to be a polite thing to say. Sort of a self-reference thing…."
"Dad, you’re rambling."
"You’re right. But you get my point. Why won’t you let gay boys in your club, not that I’m certain there are too many self-referenced 12-year-old gay boys?"
"They lead a deviant and abominable lifestyle."
"Have you been reading the National Review again at the library? Where do you come up with this stuff?"
"It’s our club. We make the rules."
"Well, what is it you do in this no girl, no gay club?"
"We talk to an imaginary friend."
"All of you?"
"Yup."
"And does your imaginary friend talk back?"
"Yes, he does."
"What do you talk about?"
"About how to live our lives."
"Did your ‘friend’ tell you you shouldn’t let girls and gays in your club?"
"Well, they can sorta be in the club. They just can’t run the club or come to the secret clubhouse or know the handshake or stuff like that."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, none of the guys in the club can have girlfriends."
"I thought you liked girls?"
"Rules are rules."
"Well, not to press the point, but aren’t guys in a club with other guys who can’t have girlfriends kind of, well, gay?"
"You just don’t understand, Pops. I don’t think you can be in the club."
So you might just dismiss this whole palaver as a weird childish right of passage. Or you might start thumbing the Yellow Pages for a good child psychologist. Or you might lay down the law and let your kid know you think the world would be a better place if fewer groups in society adhered to exclusionary policies.
But suppose a few years later your almost grown up boy child came back to you and said, "I’ve decided I’m going away to school. It’s a boys’ school."
"No girls?"
"Not a one."
"What are you going to study there?"
"The teachings of my imaginary friend."
"I really thought you’d outgrow this."
"Get over it."
"How do you expect to make a living, once you get out of this school?"
"Don’t worry, there’s lots of jobs goin’ begging in the Club."
"You’ve started to capitalize it… the club?"
"Have some respect, Pops."
"Still no girls? Still no queers?"
"I thought you didn’t like that word?"
"I don’t, but it kinda rhymes. Besides, that was then; this is now. We’re all cooler about it now that they can marry."
"They ain’t marryin’ in our Club. But yeah, same rules, ‘cept we’ve made them tougher."
"Tougher?"
"Well, there used to be sort of a don’t ask, don’t confess rule about the whole gay thing. Now we’re going to ask. And even if the new recruits say they’re not, we’re going to look into their soul and decide for ourselves."
"How prescient. What about girls?"
"You’ll never live long enough to see that happen. No girls. No sex."
"Don’t you think that's just a bit, how shall I put this, deviant?"
"It’s the way."
And so it is. As we bid goodbye to the first half of the first decade of the 21 st century, it is so the way.
Last March, in the holy city of Jerusalem, there was an almost unprecedented coming together of leaders of the three religions that claim that city as their epicentre. Israel’s two chief rabbis, patriarchs of the Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox and Armenian churches and three senior Muslim leaders sat down in peace and unity. No small feat for guys who lead Clubs who have warred against each other as recently as, oh, today.
But like great science fiction movies where the fractious nations of Earth come together to defeat an invading, alien enemy, the leaders, dressed in the finery of their august offices, sat down in harmony to lash out against a common enemy.
Ironically, it was an outsider, Reverend Leo Giovinetti, an evangelical pastor from San Diego, who brought the disparate group together to demand action. It wasn’t the rampant poverty plaguing so much of the world they’d united to fight. It wasn’t relief for the tsunami victims. It wasn’t the escalating foment in the Middle East.
It was Jerusalem WorldPride 2005, a gay pride parade planned for the streets of Jerusalem in August.
It was going to be the fifth WorldPride festival. The first, held in Rome, was opposed by a neo-Fascist group that planned, but later canceled, counterdemonstrations.
That festival was also opposed by Pope John Paul II who declared it an offense to Christian values.
Nice company.
Of course, it was PJPII’s Club, under its new infallible leader, that has decided to witch hunt gays out of seminaries.
I can’t be certain, but I think anyone who decides to live a life of celibacy, in an organization that bans women from its hierarchy, passed homosexuality a few miles back on the roadway of deviant lifestyles.
I guess you have to be in the Club to understand that kind of hatred and intolerance. I’m not. I don’t have an imaginary friend. But the Bible I read seemed to mostly be about tolerance, acceptance, love, honour, inclusion and begatin’. So are the other holy books according to wise people who claim to have read them and can speak about them without foaming at the mouth.
But somewhere along the way, things got really weird.
